Title: We Have An Ascender Down
By: Gabe
Summary: This is basically an attempt at an archive fic for Robyn's site, because I'm really really really bored, *still* waiting for my boyfriend to show up, and decided what the hell, I'd write it up. Robyn TSH and her staff each own themselves and I swear will be returned..... relatively unharmed. *sheepish grin*

Quick Author's notes: Please don't kill me..... yes, that's all.

Quick Archivest's Note: *g* Aw, thanks Gabe. You're definitely the best Minion a hopeful Ascender could hope for.


Gabe quietly shut the door to Robyn TSH's office behind her, and crept to the nearest waiting couch, which she found thankfully comfortable as she collapsed into it. "Sheesh.... what a way to spend my first weekend free...."

The waiting room door opened up, Travis ducking inside, cask of Sprite in tow. Gabe violently signed for him to be quiet... two seconds too late. The door slammed shut, causing her to wince.

"Travis!!" She hissed, smacking his side as he walked past. "She's trying to sleep!"

"Well why didn't you tell me that before?" Travis retorted softly, sitting the soda of choice down.

"I--Christ, just drop it," Gabe sighed, letting her head fall back to the arm of the couch as she brushed the hair from her eyes, and let them flutter shut "It's not worth starting our first real fight over."

Travis walked over and sat on the edge of the couch, the infamous Concerned Boyfriend Syndrome kicking in. "Are you alright? You're starting to look like Robyn."

Gabe half opened an eye. "I will be. But after 6:30 rehearsals everyday, Production Night, Cast Party, Science Projects, Making up an Island Nation, three English papers, a movie review, a new Russian project, French poems to recite and Christmas shopping.... I'm about as tuckered out as her."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear," Travis said, kissing her forehead lightly. "Maybe you should let me--"

"No,no,no," Gabe told him sternly. "I'll be fine, Science Projects are done, as is the play, and half the other stuff. Gimme a couple of days to just veg out, I'll be fine."

The staff looked up as someone knocked on Robyn's door. Opening it up, Travis discovered an impatient Xander, at about the age of 30 something, tapping his foot.

"Where's Robyn?"

"Resting," Gabe answered, sitting up on her elbows. "Why?"

"I just spent two hours being aged for The Slayer's Hunter!" Xander cried. Both Travis and Gabe violently shushed him. "And I want to get the next chapter done with." He continued, now in a harsh whisper.

"You're the character, not the writer," Travis said. "She bosses you around, not vice versa."

"Look, you try sitting in a room for two solid hours, getting genetically aged so a gal can write a piece of fanfic, and then tell me you wouldn't be pissed to hear 'she's resting, come back tomorrow'," Xander retorted.

With a slight growl, Gabe stood up, and started menacingly towards the TV character. "Look, *you*, I just spent three frickin' hours getting the whole damn cast out of wool skirts and Catholic girl clothes and into their correct character. I have been running around trying to keep Robyn's Ascension from falling apart, and trying to learn HTML in hopes of being able to offer some help to the Bunny in question. So unless you want me to go into my room and start writing 'When the Lines Blur' and send you to hell like I plan to, I suggest getting out of this office and not complaining!"

Xander swallowed hard, obviously feeling about the size of a toothpick. "y-yes ma'am," He stammered, before jetting out of the room.

With a heavy sigh, Gabe fell back to the couch. "Characters."

~The End